


memory is what makes our lives (life without memory is no life at all)

by kayteedancer



Series: November Challenge 2020 [18]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Amnesia, Angst, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Don’t copy to another site, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Gen, Katsuki Yuuri-centric, M/M, Post-Canon, So much angst, Yuri Plisetsky is a Good Friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:49:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27628424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayteedancer/pseuds/kayteedancer
Summary: Viktor had breathed color into Yuuri’s world in a way he had never had before. But now…Now, Yuuri’s world was all grey, white, andred.Yuuri slid his eyes shut as he tipped his head back against the wall. Knee bouncing anxiously, Yuuri tried to calm his heart rate as he waited for news.Viktor…Yuuri flinched, eyes flying open as he stared at the door to the operating theater, willing someone to give him an update, to bring him to Viktor,to tell him that Viktor was going to be alright.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: November Challenge 2020 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1996558
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	memory is what makes our lives (life without memory is no life at all)

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t fall asleep this time, woo!! So here’s Day 18!
> 
> We’re right back on the angst train with this one, y’all. And, we’re back in the realm of Yuri!!! On Ice. Why I struggle to write these boys happy, the world may never know.
> 
> That being said, this one centers more directly on the Viktuuri relationship with one major wrench thrown in the works: amnesia.
> 
> All the thanks to @dialouge-prompts on tumblr for the inspiration. I definitely added some parts to the prompt and changed the pronouns to make it fit in with the story I was trying to create, but I think I managed to stick to it pretty well! Check them out on tumblr if you're looking for a bunch of really interesting prompts!
> 
> I also want to give a huge shoutout to everyone who's been leaving me kudos and comments and bookmarking all my fics. I read and respond to every comment, and I can't tell you all how much it means to me to see how much you're enjoying my writing. Thank you so, so much. ❤️❤️
> 
> Please let me know what you think of this installment, and come say hi on my tumblr (@sleepeatdancedream)! I would love to talk about fandom, writing, or life in general. Or if that's not your speed, feel free to leave a prompt or twelve of your own there!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy Day 18! Title is a quote by Luis Bunuel

It wasn’t often that someone could find Katsuki Yuuri anywhere in Hasetsu that wasn’t the Ice Castle, Yu-Topia Katsuki, or Minako’s ballet studio. But since Viktor had come into his life, Yuuri’s world had expanded. It was like, by Viktor’s side, Yuuri was able to relearn all these places he had been before: Hasetsu, Moscow, Barcelona...

Viktor had breathed color into Yuuri’s world in a way he had never had before. But now…

Now, Yuuri’s world was all grey, white, and  _ red. _

Yuuri slid his eyes shut as he tipped his head back against the wall. Knee bouncing anxiously, Yuuri tried to calm his heart rate as he waited for news. 

Viktor…

Yuuri flinched, eyes flying open as he stared at the door to the operating theater, willing someone to give him an update, to bring him to Viktor, to  _ tell him that Viktor was going to be alright. _

The door to the waiting room slammed open with a bang, and Yuuri smiled nervously as he heard Yuri Plisetsky’s voice snap Russian at the nurse trying to stop him. Now that Yuri was here, it was better. Yuuri still didn’t know much Russian after just under a year living with Viktor there, and he had never felt the language barrier more acutely than when he was stopped at the door as the nurses took a bleeding Viktor to a room and left Yuuri there to worry alone.

“Katsudon,” Yuri stated flatly in English, worry lighting his eyes as he dropped into the chair next to him. “How long has the Old Man been in there?”

“About an hour,” Yuuri replied shakily, scrubbing his hands over his face as his eyes burned. “There was...there was so much  _ blood _ , Yura. I...I just want to know if he’ll be okay.”

Yuri just nodded silently, no doubt thinking about what had happened to land Viktor in the hospital.

It was a freak accident, really. Viktor had been running through his new Free Skate and as he went into a quad flip, something weird happened. The takeoff was sloppy and weak, and Viktor didn’t really have the speed for the four rotations but the king of the quad flip went for them anyway.

He failed.

Viktor hit the ice hard, his head cracking against the unforgiving material as he skidded to a stop. Blood seeped out from the back of his head, staining his silver hair and the blue ice a sickening scarlet as Yakov frantically called for an ambulance. Yuuri practically dove in the back with Viktor, but the waiting room was as far as he’d gotten.

Now he just had to wait, and somehow not let his anxiety choke him in the process.

What felt like an eternity later, a kind looking nurse exited and called Viktor’s name. He and Yuri shot to their feet as the Russian Punk demanded answers in guttural Russian. The nurse replied with a small smile as she turned to Yuuri and waved him toward her.

“She wants you to go with her, Katsudon,” he stated softly, shifting from foot to foot as he shoved his hands on the pocket of his hoodie. “Viktor’s awake and needs a familiar face right now.”

Yuuri nodded and smiled tremulously at the woman, gripping his elbows so hard his knuckles were white as he entered Viktor’s hospital room.

Viktor was awake and staring at him and the nurse with a plastic grin, but even that couldn’t deter the massive rush of relief that overtook Yuuri.

“Viktor,” he breathed, rushing to the man’s side and grabbing his hand. Viktor’s smile slipped just the tiniest bit as he said something in Russian to the nurse, but Yuuri didn’t hear the woman’s reply as he took in the sight of Viktor: bandaged, but alive and awake.

The woman exited the room soon after and Yuuri squeezed Viktor’s hand. “Vitya, I’m so glad you’re alright,” Yuuri smiled. But as he looked up at the eyes he loved so well, he was caught off-guard by how cold they looked.

Viktor was looking at Yuuri, but there was no recognition in his eyes, and Yuuri felt despair yawn in the pit of his stomach.

“Viktor? Do you...do you know who I am?” Yuuri asked quietly, and felt his heart shrivel as Viktor let loose a perfectly controlled chuckle, the kind that he used for the media.

“Of course I do! The nurse told me you are my rinkmate. Katsuki, right?” Viktor chirped, and Yuuri flinched as if he’d been struck.

Slipping his hand out of Viktor’s, Yuuri valiantly tried to keep his emotions steady as he whispered, “Rinkmate?”

“Yes!” Viktor continued in that same falsely bright tone. “Though I wasn’t aware that Yakov was taking any students that weren’t Russian. He had a lot of national pride for being an old man now. You know-“

Yuuri shoved back from Viktor’s bed abruptly, cutting off the Russian’s ramble as he felt his vision go dark at the edges.

_ He doesn’t remember, he doesn’t remember,  _ **_he doesn’t remember…!_ **

“I-I’m sorry,” Yuuri stuttered, backing away from him as quickly as he could. “I, I n-need to g-go. I can’t...I can’t…”

“Oh, alright then,” Viktor pouted prettily, and while Yuuri had grown up seeing that face in picture after picture, it was a media smile. Yuuri much preferred the natural smiles Viktor had given him since he had arrived in Hasestsu more than a year ago, as imperfect and lopsided and quirky as their owner. “Please tell Yakov I’m fine and that I’ll talk to him later. I have an idea on how to perfect my Stammi Vicino.”

**_How can he not remember?_ **

Yuuri whined in the back of his throat as he escaped the hospital room, tears blurring his vision as he made his way back to the waiting room as quickly as he could without running. Blowing through the doors, Yuuri barely heard Yakov and Yuri calling his name before he latched onto the shorter boy, tears dampening the shoulder of his leopard print hoodie.

“Oi, Katsudon, hey. What’s this? How’s the Old Man?” Yuri asked confusedly, and a sob escaped Yuuri’s clenched teeth.

Yuri froze in response, one hand coming up to gently pat the Japanese skater’s back. “Katsudon?” he repeated softly. “How did it go with Viktor?”

“He...” Yuuri choked out. “He doesn’t remember me.”

Yuri sucked in a breath as Yakov began cursing lowly in Russian somewhere behind them. Yuuri buried his face further in the younger boy’s shoulder, desperately clutching the fabric of his hoodie in white-knuckles fingers.

“I walked in the room and he...he called me his  _ rinkmate _ , said he didn’t know Yakov was taking non-Russian students.” The words flowed out of a Yuuri in a deluge, his devastation seeming to suck all light and color from the room. “He said to tell Yakov he was fine and that he had ideas to improve Stammi Vicino…”

Yuuri trailed off as the Russian Yuri’s hands gripped him tightly, his hug squeezing Yuuri so hard he thought his ribs might bruise. It was the only thing that gave Yuuri enough strength to lift his bloodshot eyes to a stricken, pale Yakov.

“I’m a total stranger to him,” Yuuri whispered, and his knees crumpled beneath him as his heart shattered into a million tiny, colorless pieces.


End file.
